


Contrails

by meanderingsoul



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Gen, Introspection, Loss, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Numbness, Past Character Death, Past Violence, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: Melinda couldn’t feel anything right now. But she remembered what she should be feeling, how she’d normally feel.Somehow it made it all worse.
Relationships: Daniel Sousa & Melinda May, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Melinda May
Comments: 22
Kudos: 68





	Contrails

**Author's Note:**

> Episode tag for 7x6. May looked forlorn sitting in the Zephyr and I'm enjoying Sousa on aos very much - M

The Zephyr was still smoking when the quinjet docked. Normally it’d be enough to piss her off, stuck with a damaged aircraft again.

Everything was too quiet. Melinda didn’t even end up asking what was still damaged.

Mack wanted to be alone, walked off towards quieter spaces as soon as the hatch opened, but it seemed like the kind of alone that could handle Yoyo’s company. That was good.

His fear and horror and brimming grief hadn’t lasted for her much longer than the fight, let alone the silent flight back. She’d thought about squeezing Yoyo’s shoulder on her way by, but it wouldn’t be fair right now, doing that uninvited.

Melinda couldn’t feel anything right now. But she remembered what she _should_ be feeling, how she’d normally feel.

Somehow it made it all worse.

She remembered the kicked in the chest sensation of thinking Phil had been ripped out of her life, remembered every time it had happened. Every explosion or crash when she’d thought he’d been in it. Every gunshot where she thought it had killed him. When he’d been poisoned in Panama City. Getting the phone call after New York. When he’d finally stopped breathing in her arms.

She remembered it all. Crystal clear. There was just nothing inside her to go with it right now, the sense-memories just remnants of what used to be there. Contrails after the jet was already gone.

Looking at the brief expressions of shock and loss on Elena and Mack’s faces when she’d said Coulson was gone again, and she’d had nothing to offer in return... Even if she did have a hard time believing he wouldn’t turn back up in some form, it made her wonder how long she could live like this and still be herself.

It was better there wasn’t time to think about that.

Agent Sousa hadn’t known how to call them, but he’d known how to hotwire a car and drive. They hadn’t even been back on the ground to start looking for them 10 minutes before he got there.

The others had looked relieved until they’d seen the blood on his shirt, until Jemma’s voice turned frantic when she first got a look at Daisy.

Melinda hadn’t reached out to help pick her up this time.

Daisy was still bloody and limp in the other room and she hadn’t been there, hadn’t been coming for her either. Hadn’t known.

It was still one of her worst nightmares, scenarios like that. Melinda knew she should feel sick in her gut right now, that her hands would usually be tense or restless. She knew she’d usually be angry at Nathanial Malick and whatever muscle he’d hired, knew the way it _seethed_ when she really wanted to make someone suffer.

But sitting there off to the side in her plane that almost didn’t need her to fly it, staring between the floor and the clock counting down, she felt none of it.

She almost missed the sound of Deke walking over to her, glanced up to see a sympathetic expression just before they finally jumped. The lurch of moving through time didn’t feel right for an aircraft. She didn’t like it. But whether it was fear or disgust in addition to the physical sensation of discomfort, Melinda just had no idea.

Deke vanished with an attempt at a smile to go read what she assumed was new data from whenever they were now. The ship stayed quiet.

Daniel Sousa walked into the room, slower because he was tired or because his cane had been lost in the abduction. He mostly moved around the Zephyr like it was an untrustworthy troop ship anyway, like it might pitch with the wind or ocean. She’d been on ships, in vintage aircraft multiple times. Melinda couldn’t begrudge him the habit.

He finally sighed loud enough to hear it over the electronics. “I’m sorry ma’am.”

Melinda stared. People frequently just kept talking when she did.

“There wasn’t much I could do at first, and by the time she got me the glass...”

“Glass.”

He grimaced. “She...I didn’t see it but she took a piece of glass from them and hid it in her palm, under the skin.”

Glass in her hands and needles in her spine and Melinda remembered exactly how bad both those things hurt. She closed her eyes a moment but they weren’t burning.

“She...it let me take out the guard.”

Melinda nodded. Something sharp always made a big difference.

“I’m just, I’m sorry she got so hurt. Dr. Simmons keeps saying she’ll be fine, but I can’t imagine...I’m sure it’s hard to see her like this.”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Simmons always sounded strange, more used to agent or Jemma. Melinda knew she’d usually be scared for Daisy to recover until she was awake, but Jemma had told her she’d be fine in a couple days and like this that was somehow enough.

“I didn’t want to assume... but she is, right? Your daughter?” he said hesitantly.

That assumption used to hurt. It used to feel hot in her chest, embarrassment and selfish wants. It used to be a melting kind of thing, what Daisy had become to her. She’d been ashamed before she’d come to treasure it.

Love and pride and sorrow. What was left of Coulson had been being a jackass on purpose. He knew she knew all the words.

The numb let her say, “Not the way you’re thinking. I trained her.”

“Oh.”

The confused frown on his face was tense. It was strange seeing him outside of black and white photographs, let alone seeing him move.

“I’m sorry. I heard her call Agent Coulson ‘Dad’ and it made me think... Nevermind. We’ve all barely just met; it’s not my business.”

The glances back and forth between the three of them has used to hurt too. She’d fought against thinking of Daisy like her own for a long time. “We met her young,” she said, mostly to the wall. It wasn’t going to clear anything up for him.

If Coulson had been at all right when he said her own emotions were coming back, she couldn’t feel it. She wasn’t sure they’d really come through from wherever they’d gone in that cell either, or if arguing with Coulson at the worst possible times was just a need after all these years.

Agent Sousa cleared his throat in the silence. “Well, she’s tough as hell. If you trained her, I’m sure you’re proud.”

“I am,” she said quietly, but it didn’t come out of her mouth right. She _was_ proud of her, for so many things. She knew she was, but there wasn’t that warm ache in her chest to go with it. There was no impulse to smile so she didn’t fake one.

Nothing seemed like it was coming back, days now with nothing her own. Well. Melinda was already very good at being numb anyway.

“Are you...alright?” he asked, gently enough she looked up to meet concerned eyes.

She was just sitting here staring at the floor in stolen clothes when there was work to be done. Maybe she wasn’t alright.

“I’m... tired.”

She was. Melinda was just tired. There wasn’t any heartsick to go with it.


End file.
